100 Things I Like in 100 Icons (#006)
6. Inkheart by Cornelia Funke
Books were her home when she was somewhere strange - familiar voices, friends that never quarrelled with her, clever, powerful friends, daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had travelled far and wide.
Of all the books I probably wouldn't have read if I hadn't been a children's librarian, Inkheart has to be pretty high up on the list of my favourites. It's not only a gloriously old-fashioned, complex and engaging children's fantasy (in the best possible way, and beautifully written - or, very well translated, since I'm unable to read German), it's an exercise in pure bibliophilia. Inkheart is about book-loving Meggie, her book-binder (or book doctor) father, Mo, her great Aunt Elinor (a book collector who verges on bibliomania), an author and a number of escaped book characters. It's a genuine fantasy novel, but the only magic in it is the power of books and words, of printed paper pages, and reading, and writing - and reading aloud. And about the power, danger and addictiveness of stories and the imagination, of the contrast between fantasy and reality. It's also about the way that stories and characters have a life of their own that can't truly be owned by anybody, even their creators.
The hardback copy I first read (published by Chicken House) was lovely - covers, paper quality, typesetting, everything. A lot of thought went into having not just the cover art (which is nice, but not the thing here) but the whole feel of the book match the theme of it, of getting completely lost in a story. (Actually, I'm thinking now, given how much of it is also about loving the sheer physicality of books - the covers, the paper, their presence in the house, under the pillow, everywhere - it's a little ironic to think how many people are going to read an e-book version of this. That's not a criticism... just a passing thought.)
My only regret is that I couldn't have read it when I was 10 or 12 or so. On the other hand, whether I'd have ever been able to emerge again is a good question, so perhaps it's as well. It is, however, very much one of those books that is a worthwhile read at any age. (Stories have their own shape, and sometimes that shape is a children's novel. That doesn't automatically make it not worth reading by adults.)
There is also a film of it, which is nice (and great for icon-making), but as with many of these things, it's mere icing to the book's cake. (Nice icing with Eliza Bennett as Meggie, Brendan Fraser, Helen Mirren, Paul Bettany, Andy Serkis and Jim Broadbent, but still. Not the book.)
There are two sequels, but Inkheart stands alone perfectly. I like the other two, especially Inkspell (it ought to get some sort of award for the gorgeous quotes about reading/writing that preface each chapter - and there are a lot of chapters) but they're something a bit different, and also a little older and darker.
***
Books are like flypapers. You find yourself there, a younger self, slightly different... the book had preserved you like a pressed flower, both strange and familiar.
There were books... small piles of books, tall piles of books, books thick and thin, books old and new. They welcomed Meggie... with invitingly opened pages, they kept boredom at bay when the weather was bad. And sometimes you fell over them.
Nothing chased nightmares away faster than the rustle of printed pages.
Elinor had bookshelves the way other people had wallpaper.
His men spread fear abroad almost like the Black Death, they pushed it under doors and through letter boxes, they painted it on walls and stable doors until it infected everything.
Fear kills everything. Your mind, your heart, your imagination.
When you open a book, it's like going to the theatre. First you see the curtain. Then it's pulled aside and the show begins.
"Stories never really end, even if the books like to pretend they do. Stories always go on. They don't end on the last page, any more than they begin on the first."
Credits: textures by tiger_tyger
Books were her home when she was somewhere strange - familiar voices, friends that never quarrelled with her, clever, powerful friends, daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had travelled far and wide.
Of all the books I probably wouldn't have read if I hadn't been a children's librarian, Inkheart has to be pretty high up on the list of my favourites. It's not only a gloriously old-fashioned, complex and engaging children's fantasy (in the best possible way, and beautifully written - or, very well translated, since I'm unable to read German), it's an exercise in pure bibliophilia. Inkheart is about book-loving Meggie, her book-binder (or book doctor) father, Mo, her great Aunt Elinor (a book collector who verges on bibliomania), an author and a number of escaped book characters. It's a genuine fantasy novel, but the only magic in it is the power of books and words, of printed paper pages, and reading, and writing - and reading aloud. And about the power, danger and addictiveness of stories and the imagination, of the contrast between fantasy and reality. It's also about the way that stories and characters have a life of their own that can't truly be owned by anybody, even their creators.
The hardback copy I first read (published by Chicken House) was lovely - covers, paper quality, typesetting, everything. A lot of thought went into having not just the cover art (which is nice, but not the thing here) but the whole feel of the book match the theme of it, of getting completely lost in a story. (Actually, I'm thinking now, given how much of it is also about loving the sheer physicality of books - the covers, the paper, their presence in the house, under the pillow, everywhere - it's a little ironic to think how many people are going to read an e-book version of this. That's not a criticism... just a passing thought.)
My only regret is that I couldn't have read it when I was 10 or 12 or so. On the other hand, whether I'd have ever been able to emerge again is a good question, so perhaps it's as well. It is, however, very much one of those books that is a worthwhile read at any age. (Stories have their own shape, and sometimes that shape is a children's novel. That doesn't automatically make it not worth reading by adults.)
There is also a film of it, which is nice (and great for icon-making), but as with many of these things, it's mere icing to the book's cake. (Nice icing with Eliza Bennett as Meggie, Brendan Fraser, Helen Mirren, Paul Bettany, Andy Serkis and Jim Broadbent, but still. Not the book.)
There are two sequels, but Inkheart stands alone perfectly. I like the other two, especially Inkspell (it ought to get some sort of award for the gorgeous quotes about reading/writing that preface each chapter - and there are a lot of chapters) but they're something a bit different, and also a little older and darker.
***
Books are like flypapers. You find yourself there, a younger self, slightly different... the book had preserved you like a pressed flower, both strange and familiar.
There were books... small piles of books, tall piles of books, books thick and thin, books old and new. They welcomed Meggie... with invitingly opened pages, they kept boredom at bay when the weather was bad. And sometimes you fell over them.
Nothing chased nightmares away faster than the rustle of printed pages.
Elinor had bookshelves the way other people had wallpaper.
His men spread fear abroad almost like the Black Death, they pushed it under doors and through letter boxes, they painted it on walls and stable doors until it infected everything.
Fear kills everything. Your mind, your heart, your imagination.
When you open a book, it's like going to the theatre. First you see the curtain. Then it's pulled aside and the show begins.
"Stories never really end, even if the books like to pretend they do. Stories always go on. They don't end on the last page, any more than they begin on the first."
Credits: textures by tiger_tyger